


AKA the Prostate

by maxette



Category: Rome
Genre: M/M, PWP, Post-Series, Vorenus is alive and he and Pullo become happy farmers and co-parents obvs!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-14
Updated: 2008-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxette/pseuds/maxette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pullo explains that men also have a button.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AKA the Prostate

It’s not like he had never thought about it. Pullo kept his hair cut very short. A strip of flesh existed between his hairline and his ear, protected from battle scarring and the sun, pale and smooth. If Vorenus found himself behind Pullo—which, admittedly, happened infrequently, as he had always been Pullo’s superior officer—he was distracted by that flesh. He wanted to know what it felt like, tasted like, and then perhaps move his way down. Vorenus could stop his thoughts there, but he had by mused long on that skin. No, the thought of coupling with Pullo was not strange at all. That Pullo had thought of it also? That was more original. 

“I do not believe it,” he said. They lay side by side on their backs, on a mat in the garden. Vorena the elder kept it lush and well-tended. In the hot summer it was cool and fragrant, more pleasant to sleep out of doors. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?” said Pullo. “You do! You have a button. All men do.”

“I have no—I know my body, and—”

Pullo nudged him with his foot. “I’m sure you do, you pious old—”

“Anyway, I’m sure I would have found a—a button as Niobe had.”

“Well, it’s not quite the same, mind. But it has the same affect on a man—”

“You don’t mean—” Vorenus cleared his throat. “I mean, you would not explain—the cock, Pullo, you will know I know of that.”

“No, it’s not your cock. I’m sure I needn’t show you its pleasures.” A pause, longer than a breath. “Although I would.” 

Pullo stretched his spine into an arch and settled his arms behind his head. Vorenus could feel Pullo’s hand graze over his hip to his waist as his arm moved past. An accident, to be sure, except for how Pullo watched him. 

“What are you saying, soldier?”

“Nothing,” Pullo said and looked away. Vorenus would have gone to sleep then, or at least rolled to his side and breathed evenly, except Pullo looked back. “I’m saying I’d like to give you pleasure, sir, that’s all. If you ever want.”

Vorenus couldn’t think of anything to say for a long while. “Are you lonely? You could have a woman from the village, bring her here to stay if you’d like—”

“I’m not lonely.” Pullo wouldn’t look at him now. He was staring at the stars. “I take advantage of the village women, Vorenus, I just want--” He glanced down Vorenus’s body, then met his gaze for a moment. “Nothing. We should sleep now. It’s late. Sheep to heard tomorrow and all.” He smiled at Vorenus, then turned on to his side. Vorenus could see that strip of flesh behind his ear clearly in the moonlight and stared at it.

They lived a good life these days, as quiet as they could, on a sheep farm a hundred miles east of Rome. They were careful, but not careful enough. Vorenus knew if a knowledgeable someone were to come upon them, their identities would be obvious. One winter, Pullo had disappeared for a month and come back with three kittens for Aeneas and they’d been steadily mating a cat army. Vorenus complained that they suggested the identity of a certain Egyptian prince and were bothersome besides, but they took care of the rats and bugs and the children loved them. Vorenus and Pullo were bigger than most farmers… simply being two men of their description wasn’t safe. They should not have stayed together, but Vorenus never considered the alternative. 

Vorenus watched Pullo’s back move as he breathed. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring, it felt like a single second and his whole lifetime at once. 

“Vorenus,” said Pullo. “I can feel your gaze.” His voice was almost normal, only a little strained. “Let’s forget about it, yeah? I’ll not mention it again.”

He knew that this was true. If Vorenus let the topic drop now, he’d never be confronted with it again. He and Pullo would be friends, and nothing more, for the rest of their lives. All this time, the possibility of _something more_ had been hanging around them like a bright, warm fog. Vorenus was afraid to let it go, but if in this moment something had to change… he felt the taut muscles of Pullo’s back underneath his hand before he realized he’d moved. 

Pullo said his name again, like a sob. “You don’t have to—”

Vorenus moved closer to him, focused on that skin behind the ear. He kissed it, lingeringly, than moved to take his earlobe in his mouth. “Yes, Pullo,” he said quietly. And then he was on his back with Pullo on top of him. Pullo’s cock was pressed against his thigh, his own tucked into Pullo’s hipbone. When had he gotten so blindingly hard? He felt dizzy. 

Pullo bent his head. Vorenus watched his gaze move all over his face, finally focusing on his mouth. He prepared himself to be kissed, but Pullo dodged at the last moment and pressed his nose against his throat. Vorenus groaned and just _moved_ desperately, his hips bucking up into Pullo’s weight, his hands finding their way underneath Pullo’s tunic, his mouth moving over whatever bit of Pullo’s face he could find. He groaned again when Pullo pulled away, looking at him with wide eyes. “Can I—” He was painting. “I want to—kiss you.”

“ _Stupid_ man,” he said. “You talk too _much.”_ And finally kissed him. 

It was nothing like kissing a woman. It was nothing like kissing anyone else. It was better. Pullo tasted of their dinner and wine and something else, saltier, warmer. Vorenus was not afraid to be vicious, biting at his lips, digging his fingers into his scalp. Pullo moved his mouth down Vorenus’s face, across his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, chest, stomach, until he reached the slip of fabric around his hips.

“Pullo, stop. You’re not a whore.”

“We’re not in Rome any longer, Vorenus.” Pullo stroked Vorenus’s thighs, calloused hands against thin, delicate skin, and bent his head to the cluster of hair at the base of his cock, taking a deep breath of the heavy scent there and rubbing his head against his stomach. Vorenus felt like he might faint and then realized he wasn’t breathing. Niobe might not have known of this act’s existence and even the infrequent prostitutes after her, he suspected, found themselves too quickly impaled on him to try it. “I want to taste you. I want to _know_ all of you. Please. You don’t have to do it to me.”

But Vorenus wanted to do it to him. He realized he knew exactly what Pullo meant because Vorenus wanted it too. He wanted to taste Pullo’s blood, his very soul. 

He took Pullo’s face in his hands and bent to kiss him. “Yes.” Pullo smiled and then took his cock head into his mouth. He was going to ejaculate embarrassingly fast, he thought already and then Pullo moved his mouth down—all the way down, until his nose was pressed against his pubic hair and his face was red. 

Vorenus reached orgasm and then, kissing his mouth and stroking his cock, he helped Pullo orgasm as well. Afterwards, they lay together, a little tangled up, which, when he woke, he sometimes found had happened naturally and he wondered what their bodies did in the night, what they had known before their minds. 

“Did you attend to my button?” he said and kissed behind his ear again.

“No. Vorenus—I was only joking.” For a moment Vorenus was relieved that he was not so unaware of himself, but then Pullo continued, “You won’t want me to do it.”

“Why?” he demanded. Pullo smiled at him and gave him a fast kiss on the mouth.

“It’s… up your arse.”

“What!” He sat up, but Pullo carefully coaxed him back lying down. He knew well how to tame a person and Vorenus wondered for a moment how much Pullo was reminded of Gaia. There was a tightening in his chest and he was surprised to realize it was worse imagining comparison to another lover than to a slave. 

“There you are. I won’t even try it, on my honor. You—you can do it to me, mind. It’s a sweet little button up there.”

“You attend to it by fucking a man up his arse, you mean.”

Pullo cuddled into Vorenus’s side and started licking at his underarm and the curve of his pectoral - oh, he would have won his way many more times if they had been doing this then. Not that they were fighting. Vorenus squirmed. “Yes. I’m sure your cock can find it in me. Do you think it can? Do you think you can fuck me well, Vorenus?” Somewhere in his mind, Vorenus thought he should be offended at this affront to his capability, but the whole rest of it was overrun with arousal. “Want to fuck me? I want you to. I—” Pullo bit his nipple and Vorenus _whimpered_ , like a woman, “I want you inside me.”

Vorenus wanted it, too, oh _fuck_ did he, but as he moved to do it he realized he had no idea what to do. With a woman it was easy. Just… in. And then out, and in, until it was over. But a man’s hole wasn’t meant for that, was it, and it didn’t have a lubricant, and it was so small besides and— “Pullo. I’ve never—I don’t know how—” Could it truly be done?

“We’ll need some oil.” Pullo smiled and bounded up and toward the house. Vorenus pushed himself up, leaned against his forearms and watched Pullo’s buttocks as he moved. He was a beautiful man; Vorenus wondered how long he’d noticed. As a breeze passed, bringing wet attention to the semen on his stomach, to the fact that he was naked in the garden his daughter tended, in clear sight of any who thought to have a look out their window. He was close to standing and dressing, perhaps taking a walk, but Pullo came back and distracted him. 

“We shouldn’t do this outside.”

“Who’s to see us? The sheep? They’re more likely to jump the fence than our children are to wake. They all sleep like the dead.”

Pullo was right—right enough, certainly, when he moved his fingers over Vorenus’ cock like that—and Vorenus awarded him for his cleverness with a sloppy kiss to his collarbone. Pullo handed him a jar of cheap massage oil and turned around, on his hands and knees, his buttocks open, the puckered little opening moving as Pullo clenched his muscles. 

“Just coat your fingers in the oil and push them in the hole. It’ll be very tight, so just one finger at first, in and out, and then add another when I start to loosen up, all right? We won’t have to do this every time, but—” He breathed out quick, laughing. “It’s been a while.” Vorenus was thrilled with the idea that they’d be doing this regularly now. It seemed such a natural extension of their relationship. All his nerves were sensitive to the hot air, the grass, Pullo’s body heat on his skin as he moved into a kneeling position. He covered his pointer finger with the oil until it was dripping and then pushed it into the hole. 

The muscle gave up control slowly, but surely, and soon Vorenus felt confident that his cock would fit inside. He would be inside Pullo. He spread his hands across Pullo’s hips, his hot, smooth skin.

“Do I have to take you from behind?”

Pullo looked over his shoulder and smirked. His skin was damp and he was panting. “Do you want to see my face?” He was teasing him, but he was correct. “No, indeed. I can put my knees on your shoulders and we’ll be positioned just right.”

“Why, Titus Pullo,” he said and stroked the man’s legs as he moved them into position. “You’re so flexible.”

Pullo winked at him. “Anything for you.” And then he groaned as Vorenus started a slow pressing in his cock.

“Did I hurt you?” Pullo shook his head firmly and his hips started their own little thrusts forward. “Is that the button, then? The, er, the hole?”

“No. You’ll find it. Keep going.” Vorenus did, but now he wondered if Pullo was making an elaborate joke of him. But then, when he was nearly completely submerged, Pullo let out a shout and jerked violently. “Oh, there it is.” A smile came over his face like the sun parting through the clouds. “This is the perfect angle.”

Pullo orgasmed twice, though the second time admittedly fizzled, like a child insisting he can still play in a ball game after his bedtime. Vorenus had never seen such reaction or quick recovery. Afterwards they lay down together again. Pullo assured him that the wetness in his arse wasn’t uncomfortable, even a nice reminder, that the soreness was good, too, that everything felt good.

“Perhaps—” he said. “Perhaps we _could_ find my button, eh?”

Pullo chuckled and tucked Vorenus under his arm. “Tomorrow, lamb. Three’s quite the limit, I’m afraid.” 

That was fine with him, as ejaculating twice in an hour was a good feat for Vorenus as well. They fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you find a typo or other monkey business in this fic? I know it can feel rude or pushy or just weird to tell authors about that stuff, so [I made a form where you can report it anonymously](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1--1RxNJyJCWZPaRyBeV6jtmUrcEI0zuUkDvoJoA6A_A/viewform). Thank you in advance for making a better reading experience for future readers.


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